Second Chance
by Mariah94
Summary: It's as if a dagger has sliced into her chest. She feels as if the whole world is crashing around her, as if everything she stands for means nothing. He was supposed to be there for her. -Set sometime after season thirteen. The Bensidy kiss never happened, in fact Cass won't even be mentioned in this story. EO. Angst.
1. Chapter 1

01

Olivia is walking home from work. It's mid-February and it's one of the rare nights where the wind chill is bearable. Still, she's bundled up, with a warm stocking cap covering her ears and a heavy winter coat over her torso.

She could have taken a cab, but it's just after seven in the evening and the streets are not nearly as crowded as they would be around rush hour. She prefers to walk, anyway. It gives her mind an opportunity to wander and clear up after a long day of interrogations and interviews.

She needs some time where she can move at her own pace. She loves the unit she works in, but she really can't ever catch a break. There's a constant energy and a need to stay a step ahead of the crimes committed within her city. Which is good, it keeps her out of trouble and keeps her from thinking too far into the fact that work is the only thing she has going for her.

You would think that after fourteen years in the same unit, working as a detective investigating sex crimes, that she would move onto something less...depressing. And there are days when she wants to, when she seriously considers doing so. But then she remembers the victims, and the fact that they don't have anybody else. She remembers her mom, and how she is the product of the same kind of men she fights to put behind bars.

She has come to the realization that she can't ever work in another unit. If she had to, she could possibly go back to the road and walk a beat for a few years. But she has to be honest with herself...she's not with the program anymore. Fourteen years ago, she was fresh off the street. She was prepared to face any call that came her way. But now, she's sure the streets would put a rough one on her. She hasn't gotten any younger.

She honestly can't see herself working another three years...but when she considers retirement she asks herself, what are you going to do? She doesn't have any family. She has nobody to share her retirement with. At least when she's working she isn't completely alone. Her coworkers are good to her, for the most part.

The last two years have been...different. Since her partner, her best friend, left the unit, she has completely numbed herself. She no longer has the drive to continue forward. It's in partial because he decided to drop her out of all aspects of his life, not just SVU. But it's also because she doesn't want to move on. She doesn't want to do this job with anybody else. And although she is going through the motions, she knows that it isn't not enough.

She's about the cross the street onto the block she lives on when she notices a figure sitting alone at a bus stop. The darkness hides him well, and he keeps his face down, but there's something about his build that grabs her attention. Her heart rate increases when his name pops into her thoughts. There's no way, though. Absolutely no way. She curses her brain for playing tricks on her and looks away, waits for the streets to clear so she can cross.

Olivia is about to step off of the sidewalk when she notices him out of the corner of her eye again. She turns her attention, and watches as the man runs his hands across his face before looking up the street, away from her.

She sees him then. She can tell, even from a distance. She would never forget that face.

Olivia can't believe what she is seeing right now. She blinks a few times before looking again. Sure enough, sitting on a bench across the street from her was none other than Elliot Stabler. Her partner of twelve years. Her best friend who fell off the radar two years ago.

Olivia didn't think she would ever see him again. And now this...well this is something she was completely unprepared for. She moves to her right and ducks into an empty phone booth. The last thing she wanted to do was get stuck staring like a duck in a desert. She just...she seriously couldn't believe.

He hasn't changed much. Despite the darkness she is able to take in a few noticeable features about him. She can tell he's let his hair grow out a little. It's still thin, something age undoubtedly does to a person, but he's let it go somewhat. She can tell he has taken well to the lack of department policy. He has even grown out a bit of facial hair. More of a thick portion of five o'clock shadow than a beard. He looks...he looks _good._

And it kills her.

She wonders what he's doing. He's looking up and down the street as if he were waiting for something. A bus or a cab maybe. But she can't comprehend why he would be out here alone. He's wearing a grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He has no jacket.

This must be why she noticed him in the first place. It's not uncommon for New Yorkers to be out at this time. Sure, it's not packed full of people getting home from work anymore. But there's still a fair amount of individuals out as walking is the preferred transportation around here.

He stands out. And it's not because he's, well, Elliot. It's because it's not exactly t-shirt weather. She can't get a clear image of his facial expression from here. She can't see his eyes. She can't figure him out.

She has to look away.

She isn't sure what possessed her to do so, but next think she knows, Olivia is pulling the pay phone from its slot and putting it to her ear. She struggles to get some change out of her pockets, realizing now how badly she was shaking. She finally shoves the change into the slot and punches the numbers she knows by heart.

Olivia looks up, and all the blood drains from her face. She watches as he reaches in his jacket and pulls out his phone. He glances down at it for second before putting it to his ear.

"Hello?"

* * *

I know...I know. I'm always leaving you guys at the worst possible moments. Chapter two will be up soon. What do you think?


	2. Chapter 2

02

She wasn't expecting him to answer...and hearing his voice nearly sent her to her knees. She keeps her eyes on him through the booth, watches as he sits there, his phone against his ear as if he answers every call...every call except hers.

Olivia inhales a deep breath, but a small noise escapes her lips and she quickly covers her mouth.

"Uhhhh-" She sees Elliot take his phone away from his ear before putting back. "Hello?" He says again.

She feels the heat returning to her face, and her heart rate starts to increase. It's the same response she has when interviewing somebody she knows is guilty. She is...she's angry. She is so fucking pissed because he answered. He actually_ answered. _

"If I had known you'd answer a pay phone I would have used one months ago."

She stops breathing. She is anticipating his response...is afraid because she simply doesn't know what to expect right now. From here she is able to catch the change in demeanor; he quickly sits forward, checks the number on the phone for the third time, and runs his hand through his hair. He's nervous, she realizes. He's panicking.

But he doesn't say anything.

Silence...that is all she is getting. Hell, she can't even hear him breathe. She can clearly see that he hasn't hung up. He's still holding the phone, waiting.

Her blood is boiling. He's supposed to be the one talking...he's supposed to explain himself. He wasn't supposed to answer the fucking phone.

A small sob echoes within the phone booth. She hardly recognizes it as something that came from her.

Shit.

Elliot leans forward, and she can see the tremors leaving his body clear as day, despite being on the other side of the street. She finally hears what sounds like a form of breathing, but it's estranged, as if he couldn't quite get enough oxygen. She watches as he crouches forward and tucks his head down.

Yet he continues to stay silent.

She rests her head against the cool metal. Her body is shaking, but she's not cold. She's struggling to breathe, to hold back the pressure that has been building up behind her eyes since she first saw him.

"You really don't have anything to say?" Her voice is low, barely a whisper. But she can tell he heard it. He quickly switches ears with the phone and starts shuffling through his pockets. He pulls something out, something she doesn't recognize given the distance. He scratches at his face before pinching the bridge of his nose.

A shaky breath comes across the phone but she can't figure out if it was her or Elliot. The pressure in her chest is rising, and she is just about ready to end the conversation.

But then he looks up, and straight into the small cubicle she is standing in. She swears time stops. He's looking right at her; he now knows that she has been watching him this whole time...

Her face flushes a crimson red.

"Olivia."

When he says her name she nearly drops to the ground. She throws her hand on the phone booth to steady herself, and she turns to lean back against the metal frame. She can't breathe. His voice...she has missed that voice for two years. She has only dreamed of hearing it again. The closest she had gotten to communicating with him was his freaking voicemail.

_This is Stabler…sorry I missed your call. Leave a message and I'll get back to ya. _

It got to the point where his voicemail box was full and instead of his voice she got the cell phone company.

_The voicemail box is full. Please call back and try again._

It was then that she had stopped calling. She wasn't sure if it was full of her messages or what…but she got the picture. He didn't want to talk to her. And he wasn't listening.

"You...you-" she doesn't know what to say to him. She just doesn't know.

She wants to yell at him, but she can't quite gather the courage to do so. She's giving him a chance right now to explain himself. All he'd have to do is tell her why, and she would drop the act. She doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but at this point she doesn't know what else to think.

He has nothing to say to her.

He is still sitting on the bench, looking right at her. He hasn't moved a muscle. His side of the phone has gone completely silent.

She's half tempted to slam the phone back into place and confront him across the street. But she can't even imagine what she would do if she was faced with nothing but silence as she stands before him asking for answers.

Because that's all she wants right now. _Answers._

It's as if a dagger has sliced into her chest. She feels as if the whole world is crashing down around her, as if everything she stands for means nothing. He was supposed to be there for her. How can he have nothing...nothing to say? After_ fourteen_ years?

"I can't believe you can do this."

That sparked a response from him. Not verbal, though. She watches with watering eyes as he leans back against the bench and runs a hand along his jaw. She hears him take in a deep breath, and to her surprise, she hears a small hitch on his exhale. He looks away from her before leaning forward and tucking his head back down. His other hand covers his mouth. It's almost as if he is holding back. She doesn't get it.

She hears his shaky breathing and can tell he's on the verge of tears…but she doesn't feel any sympathy. He's the reason it has to be this way.

She's spent the last two years building herself up after he broke her, and now the wall that has kept her secure is falling apart. She doesn't bother with the tears that are now leaking from her eyes. Right now she is simply trying to stay upright. She feels weak. She feels small. She feels insecure.

He was the only thing she had. The only rock in her life. Elliot was the one person she could go to. She had nobody else. He was her everything…and now he's her nothing.

His eyes are on her again, but she feels as if he is looking right through her. She wonders what he is really seeing. Does he see his partner? Does he see his best friend? Because he looks as if he is seeing a stranger.

Her palm slams into the metal side of the phone booth. She looks at him, watches as he jumps, startled at the sound.

She doesn't know how much more of this she can take. In the beginning, when he first left, she blamed herself. She spent night after night wracking her brain trying to figure out where she could have gone wrong. She had called him countless times…left messages where she would apologize for whatever she had done. It's taken her two years to get to the point where she could throw the blame on him. Because it wasn't Olivia who walked away.

"I guess this is it." She's grasping for anything at this point, but he gives her nothing.

She almost feels stupid, having this one way conversation with him when he's only a ten second walk away. But she's not giving any more than she already has. The ball was in his court now. It had been since the day he left.

She feels like she had been played all those years. As if she had coughed up this story in her head that they were _more_ than just partners, that she could rely on him when it came to matters that weren't work related. She wonders now if it had all been an illusion she had dreamed up in order to make him into something that he's not.

"You're a selfish son of a bitch, Elliot."

And even though she's the one who will be ending this conversation and leaving empty handed, it was Elliot who walked away once again.

She can't take it anymore. She drops the phone back into place, wipes away the remaining tears on her cheeks and leaves the booth. She walks in the opposite direction of her apartment, deciding to seek shelter in as many rounds of the strongest alcohol she can afford.

* * *

Phew. Not gonna lie, this was a tough one to write. Now before you guys come running at me with pitchforks and burn my house down, I'd like to remind you that this is an EO story. And that I would never write a story where EO doesn't happen or has some tragic type of ending. Just...bear with me. I honestly can't help that my muse is this angsty little muse that thinks EO has to _struggle_ and I mean _struggle_ before they can ever come together. End of rant. Let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

03

"Olivia." Amaro's voice startled her from her little day dream. "You okay?"

She looked across her desk at her partner, Nick Amaro. His eyes were on her, questioning.

She has spent the past two days lost in another universe. Since seeing Elliot and pretty much talking to a wall, she has completely closed herself off. She doesn't mean to come off as harsh, she knows Amaro has been licking at the verbal wounds she has inflicted on him lately…but she needs some time to build herself back up.

"Olivia-"

"I'm fine, Nick."

"Like hell you are."

She ignores his questioning stare and his legitimate worry for her. She doesn't need another partner fretting over her.

"I'm your _partner_ Olivia. And I can tell something is up."

"_Drop_ it, Nick."

She really shouldn't be so mean to him. He's a good guy, really. But the word partner and anything affiliated with it is nothing more than a sour taste in her mouth at the moment. And she could probably explain that to him. He would understand.

He had to deal with her bitterness in the beginning of their partnership two years ago. Somebody must have cued him in on the situation because he was surprisingly good about it. He was patient and understanding, and after a couple of months she finally settled into a routine with him.

She wasn't being fair.

"Look, Nick. I've just been having a bad week. I'm sorry."

A bad week is an understatement. She hasn't slept since that night, hell she has only gone home for a few hours at a time in order to freshen up and change.

The problem is...every time she closes her eyes, she sees his face. And it's killing her. She had come so far, built herself up so tough that she could go day by day and not feel a thing toward him and his departure.

But now...now it's back to square one. She feels him in every ache of her body. She hears him every time somebody calls her name. But worst of all, she sees him at every street corner.

She wants to forget him.

She wants to forget that she had spent twelve years by his side...twelve years having his back. She wants to forget the fact that she would put her life on the line for him at the blink of an eye. She wants to forget and move on.

Because she deserves to be free again.

She watches as her new partner fills out his stack of paperwork. She wonders how long he will be around. He hasn't been with the unit long enough for her to get an idea on if he will stick with the harsh nature of SVU. Sure, he's been here for two years, but she knows that people burn out of here pretty quickly…and apparently very suddenly.

Olivia sighs. She knows that he deserves more than what she is giving, but it's hard. She likes Amaro. He is a good cop, and a good man. And in the beginning she expected so much of him. After all, he had some big shoes to fill. But he has proved to her countless times that he is a good partner. That he can work with her and have her back.

She drops her pen to the table. "Amaro, let's grab a bite," she tells him and stands up, throwing on her coat.

She owes him this.

* * *

Lunch was a little awkward to say the least. They had taken the six minute walk to the new cafe just up the street. It was a good place, but Olivia wasn't interested in eating. She took a bite or two out of her salad before simply pushing the leaves around with her fork.

She thought about how different it would be if it were Elliot sitting across from her. She's pretty sure fourteen years would have been some sort of record in regards to partnership. It isn't often you get a team as good as they were. She missed the dynamic between them.

Amaro was a good partner. But that's all he was. Sure, if she called him in the middle of the night he would probably come to her rescue, but it's not the same. Elliot was more than a partner to her…he was the closest person she had in her life. She had nobody else; she didn't want anybody else. She could trust him in every aspect of her life.

The last case they worked was a tough one, she had to admit. But so is _every _ case they work. Usually Olivia is the first one to crack when it comes to children…but this time it was Elliot. She figures shooting a sixteen year old was the final straw for him. She just wishes he had come to her before making such a rash decision.

Most would agree that they were too close. But they managed to work well despite that. There were times when they would get too emotionally invested in each other but as always, they managed to work that out. What Olivia couldn't figure out is what exactly sent him over the edge. What caused him to drop everything in the blink of an eye?

She has come to the conclusion that nobody would ever replace him, despite the way he left things with her.

Amaro had finished his burger and was paying the bill when he finally spoke up.

"You're not going to tell me what's going on."

She gave him a sad smile. "There's nothing to talk about," she replied.

He didn't realize just how true that statement was.

They talked a little bit about the current case on the walk back, but ultimately fell into a comfortable silence. She was grateful he wasn't pushing the issue.

They were walking the final block back to the precinct, Amaro chatting on about his daughter and Olivia being a good ear. But she stopped listening the second he came into view. He was sitting on a bench just outside the 1-6 reading a newspaper, blending in as a typical New Yorker. Except he wasn't typical.

He was Elliot.

Olivia stood still about fifteen feet away from him, completely shell shocked. He would have the nerve to show up here after his little game of the silent treatment two days ago.

"Nick, you ah...head on up. I'll meet you there."

He didn't leave immediately. Instead he turned to his partner, and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Whose the guy?"

She looked at Nick, and that was all he needed to put the pieces together himself. He nodded and headed down the street toward the 1-6.

* * *

I am really sorry to leave you guys here, but I wanted to get this up and I don't have all the details for the next chapter worked out yet. It's good, though. I can promise you that. Let me know what you guys think. I've been floored with the reviews I've been getting here. It's great to know the majority of you agree with me in regards to the pace I'm setting with this story. Thanks so much.


	4. Chapter 4

04

Olivia took a moment to settle her thoughts. She had to remind herself that breathing was necessary and without it she would pass out which would cause a scene. Elliot sat on the bench reading a paper, acting as nonchalant as any New Yorker would. The sun wasn't out, but he had a pair of sun glasses tucked against his navy blue button up. It was a long sleeve one, something he would wear under a suit for work. Only he wasn't wearing a suit. He had the shirt tucked into a pair if denim jeans.

It was weird. It was on a rare occasion that she would see him in jeans. She was so accustomed to the suit and tie version of Elliot that it never occurred to her that he would wear jeans on his day off.

She wondered if his new job allowed him to wear them more often. She wouldn't mind wearing jeans to work. She gets to on occasion, but not enough for her liking.

Olivia stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets and approached the bench. She stood in front of him, and it took him only a moment to look up and catch her eyes.

Elliot cleared his throat and closed the paper before tucking it under his thigh. He looked up and gave her a small smile.

She rocked back on her heels. He was actually looking at her, acknowledging her. His blue eyes were shining. He wore his classic Stabler grin, his cheeks a light shade of red, most likely suffering from the New York wind chill.

His very presence sent her heart beat soaring. But with the combination of him looking at her the way he is...it's enough to send her to her knees. God, she had missed him.

"Do you...want to head inside?" Olivia managed to speak, and nodded to the precinct which was two buildings over.

Elliot shook his head and glanced down. "I uhm..." he paused for a moment. "I can't."

Olivia looked at him, completely bewildered. The precinct was his home for over a decade. She's sure the team would be happy to see him. And she is sure he is cold as he wasn't wearing a coat once again. She stood before him with a puzzled expression.

But then it hit her. Jenna.

Olivia sat down next to him on the bench, leaving a good amount of space between them. She took a couple of deep breaths while she attempted to sort out the memories and the realizations that were flooding through her right now. For the first time in days, she pushes the anger she feels for Elliot aside and looks at him with a completely open mind.

"Talk to me when you're ready," she whispers.

He continues to look down at his hands, frozen in time. She turns her attention toward the busy New York traffic in front of them and waits.

Olivia's mind was racing. Suddenly it wasn't a matter of what Elliot had done to her...but instead what Jenna may have done to him. It never occurred to her that Elliot would be suffering the effects of the shooting long term. He has done this job for over a decade...she thought he was strong enough to move on.

She was ready to tell him that it wasn't his fault, that he was doing his job...that he didn't have a choice, but she's sure he has heard it before. So instead she keeps her concern to herself and waits to hear him out.

She just hoped he had something to say.

Olivia glanced over at Elliot who was reaching into his shirt pocket. He held his hand out to her and she hesitantly reached forward, taking hold of the blue poker-like chip he had in his palm.

She ran her fingers over the plastic material, knowing exactly what it was. She didn't understand why Elliot -of all people, would have one though.

"This is sobriety chip, Elliot."

He didn't say anything, just looked ahead, his expression tense, but otherwise blank.

Olivia was, well, surprised to say the least. Elliot didn't have a drinking problem...not two years ago. In fact, on the rare occasions she did see him drink, it was never more than two. And he was always responsible about it. Hell, if anything she would say that it was her with the drinking problem. She used alcohol as a means of forgetting and becoming numb. But apparently there was more to Elliot than he had led on.

"I thought you had left to spend more time with your family."

She knew she had said the wrong thing then. Elliot tensed up, his hands clenched into fists as they rested in his lap.

It never occurred to her that Elliot was alone these past two years. But his response to her mentioning his family told her that he was. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as the thought actually crossed her mind. Was he actually divorced?

"I just got visitation rights for Eli."

The bomb dropped. Olivia let out a breath of air in surprise. She ran her fingers through her hair as she processed everything. In a matter of minutes Elliot had managed to turn her life upside down simply because of how different everything was with him now.

"I'm sorry, El."

She noticed him fidgeting and decided to change the subject.

"How long have you been sober?"

Elliot leaned forward, and he traced circles along the jeans on his thigh. "It was six months on Monday," he finally answers.

It takes her a moment to put the pieces together, but she remembers Elliot reaching into his pocket that night she called him.

"You had just gotten out of a meeting when I called you."

His eyes flashed and he looked away from her.

Two nights ago, Olivia made contact with Elliot after two years. Two nights ago, Elliot celebrated six months of sobriety...alone.

She was proud of him, despite the fact that it was simply hard to believe that Elliot had fallen so hard after the shooting. She can't help but wonder what his rock bottom was. What had caused him to finally take the steps toward bettering himself?

"I, uhm..." Elliot turned to face her completely and tucked his right leg underneath him so he could sit comfortably. "When Kevin -my sponsor," he clarified, "handed me the chip...everybody was clapping and whatnot, and I could see how proud he was. But I wasn't happy with myself."

Olivia bit down on the inside of her cheek. How could he not be happy with himself? He was six months sober. He was beating a disease that had apparently gotten the best of him.

"I don't understand."

Elliot chuckled, and he leaned his head down against his hand that rested along the back of the bench.

"That night was supposed to be a celebration. But all I could think about was you."

Olivia froze.

She had to look away from him. He was throwing way too much on her at once…and it was starting to weigh in on her. She fidgeted, her hands clasped together as she glanced back at him.

"El…"

"I kept hoping that somehow, by the grace of God, you would walk through the doors of that church and find me there. Stupid I know." Elliot sighed. "I just wanted you there."

She didn't know what to say to that. Instead, she reached forward and placed his sobriety chip on his thigh. She leaned back into her side of bench and sighed, running her fingers through her hair. She never thought Elliot would dig himself so deep. He was, after all, the strongest person she had ever come to know. And to hear that he was broken was nothing short of a surprise.

She wishes she had tried harder to reach out to him.

"I'm sorry I wasn't," Olivia finally replied but she wasn't sure if she meant it. She could feel the hostility start to creep back into her bones and she swallowed the lump that was rising in her throat. She had to remind herself that now wasn't the time to demand answers from him. This was his opportunity to tell her what is going on with him right now.

"It's my fault, Olivia. You would have been there if I hadn't…_dammit_," he cursed himself and rested his head in his palms. She could see his body trembling and she wished she could see what he was thinking.

She couldn't help but feel guilty, feel as if she could have done something to be there…she was a cop after all. And she's sure it wouldn't have been difficult to track him down…but she didn't feel right doing that. The ball was _always_ in his court. She reminds herself that he's the reason he's hurting. It wasn't her fault that she wasn't there. How could she have known?

She had no clue he was this broken.

"Elliot…"

He looked up at her, and she felt the color drain from her face. He was looking at her with a familiar shine in his eyes. She watched, her heart aching as the tears built up in the bottom of his eyelid. He sighs, squeezes his eyes shut and runs a hand along his jaw bone.

"Don't apologize, Olivia. This is…this is all on me."

She wanted to tell him he was wrong. She wanted to put some of the weight on her shoulders, pick up some of his grief and she can't figure out _why_. As if she hasn't hurt enough…

When the thought hits her, she bites on her lip and lets out a breath of air.

Is she strong enough to handle this? It was clear to her that Elliot was reaching out for something…maybe he had realized he didn't want to do this alone. But whatever the reason, he was here now. She wasn't really sure what his intentions were at this point. He had told her what was _wrong _with him…but why was he here?

And why did he choose now…after two years, to come forward?

She couldn't do this…not right now.

"Elliot…I've got to get back to work." Olivia quickly stands up but doesn't go anywhere. She messages her temples and tries to organize the swarm of thoughts that were running through her head.

Suddenly a hand was on her elbow and she spins around. She hissed at the contact before taking a step back. Elliot dropped his hand and she stared down at her feet. She took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down and Elliot stepped into her personal space again.

"Olivia-"

"El, please. I gotta go…" She puts her hands up and looks away from him.

She could hear his sigh of disappointment. "Will I see you again?" His voice was soft and she could tell he was struggling with himself.

Olivia slips her hands into her pockets and glances at him with a shrug. "Call me," she tells him. "Balls in your court."

Elliot nods. "I will," he promises.

But she doesn't believe him.


End file.
